You were once
(of course), but it’s not
that world anymore.

Do you remember
summer days
when you could enter a coffee shop 
without people noticing?
When you could read a book in the park,
the sun on your full face?
When you could walk home 
under the evening’s raspberry sky?

The internet flattens people.
We know it. We hate it
when it happens to us;
you are different—
separate.

People are allowed to be complicated,
deserve shape, depth, empathy.
People need you, however,
to fit a narrative with
plot points and themes
clear as a Hallmark movie.
You cannot deviate
from the ideas in their heads.

You are an object—
a doll for fantasies of wish fulfillment.

How long has it been
since you could act without acting?
Since you could do something without the next ten moves planned?
Since you could talk to someone without your mask on?

Your wealth
—deserved or not,
ethical or not—
makes you a symbol,
a proxy
for whatever debate
the algorithm decides to prioritize.

It’s not your name
anymore; 
it’s a brand,
a buzzword, 
a search engine optimization.

You are an object—
a tool for the exploitation of consumers.

When was
the last time
you could share a thought
without having to consider
the opinions of CEOS or heads of state?
The last time
you could answer a question
without having to consider
the fates of the hundreds of employees who depend on you?
The last time
you could post a picture of your lunch
without having to consider
the moral implications of your plating?

You chose
to make art,
to share it with people.

You didn’t choose
to not be a person.

We did that
to you.