Poetry: ‘The True Meaning of a Hive Mind’
A thousand bees live inside my brain,
But rather than being a cohesive hive,
None are from the same colony.
There is no queen,
Only imposters
Who fight for control,
Causing short circuits.
My brain buzzes
From a constant migraine
And from the fatigue
Of being unable to focus
On a single task at once.
Rather than producing honey,
These bees produce thoughts:
Some, sickly sweet,
Most, a nauseating sour.
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