Am I a bonsai?
If I were to intentionally trim, and prune, and cut away everything I despise about myself. The imperfect, the unwanted, the raw, the unkempt.
Would I be beautiful? My idealized self? Would others see the dedication and care I invested?
Or would they only see captivity?
The mighty made small. Twisted and conformed to artificial beauty? Roots and branches that took a lifetime to grow, and seconds to trim.
The mere image of a tree.
May my branches reach freely and find form.
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