I wish I was seven year old. I wish I was home, pouring tea for my grandpa. I wish I could've told my grandma I loved her. I wish I had treated her better. I miss those bruises on my legs, that bowl cut. I miss running around in the sun. I miss playing in the dirt until it got dark and cold.  I miss my mom and I miss my dad. I miss everyone I love in Chicago. I miss sitting in my dad's car. I miss putting bubble suds on flipped over cups at Ho Luck. I miss it