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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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