It smells like liquor on the streets you used to kiss me on at 3 am in our drunken shenanigans. The times we snuck out to adventure in the woods and carved our names into trees bigger than we could fathom. When did ‘I love you’ turn around to mean ‘When it’s convenient’ and when did you free your hand from the tangled knots in my hair and when did you stop kissing me at 3 am with the taste of ***** stained to our tongues.