Hello, hello old friend!
How's the weather up there on thy lofty perch?

Does it neither thunder nor rain?
Do you too not experience unexpected storms that toss and tumble things about just so?

Does your upturn nose not itch from the stench of your own narcissism?
Do you not fear the arbitrary nature of your own will, that it should grow a life of its own and tumble you down like a potted plant from a high rise window sill ?

Does your *** not hurt from how stiffly you sit? Fixed in your stance, relying solely on your own crooked opinions?

Hello, hello old friend!
Do your ears belie the sound of the condescension in your voice
And your eyes blinded by your own pretence to hide you from yourself?

Oh,
no wonder you cannot see further than your nose.

For the first time in my adult life I am free from you.
But what is freedom really?
I've come to find out it's something that's subjective, arbitrary.
I am physically free from you but still chained to something, and I don't know what that something is.
I'm free to be the person I knew I always could be without you.
But why are you still chained to my thoughts?
Why am I still chained to this toxic lifestyle?
Maybe it's this City.
Maybe it's the way you used to hold me at night.
Maybe it's the way He looks at me now (He looks at others the same too).
Or maybe it's just me and I still miss you.
And I still sleep alone while you sleep with Her.
So then, is freedom really free?