Lately,
this friendship has made me feel less like a human:
more like a checkbox in a list.

A hollow square that can only be filled inside the lines with black ink.

One row, one column,
one single spot where I exist in your world.

I liked your old list,
where I was allowed to be whatever I am.
Any shape,
all the colors,
no rows or columns.

The new list makes me wonder if you should find a new friend.