"freedom" in poetry

the “freedom” of being single
is the same kind of “freedom”
your bones get to have when
there’s no skin or muscle or
sinew to hold them together
they’re free but motionless
dead on the cold cold ground
the freedom to feel lonely
the freedom to feel broken
the freedom to feel unloved
sometimes there’s nothing more
constraining than being free to
do anything, to do everything
but with no parameters or aims
you just do nothing at all
if loneliness is freedom then
I will gladly accept the
bondage of affection instead