I have bees in my head,
They are my torment, my trouble, my affliction.
The bees in my head, they’ve lost their queen.
She said, “Good luck,” then left.
“She’s on vacation,” the bees tell themselves.
The truth is, the bees don’t know where she is,
The queen is missing.
Unlike some, however, I was lucky.
The queenless hive of my brain was seen early,
I was able to learn and understand the bees early,
Able to know what I have.
The bees, they used to get a new fake queen,
Every morning they had someone to organize them,
At least for a little while.
The fake queen was made from a synthetic royal jelly I would take every morning,
The thing that ‘helps’ the bees.
But the fake queen would be rejected, sometimes…most of the time.
They never felt like there was a difference.
Real people are worse than the missing queen…
The jelly was never good enough,
People would joke and point
Say how odd I was…
I know…
They knew.
The bees panic.
They would fly into walls and become upset,
They know that they’ve never had a queen,
Because the queen was never really born,
And the bees can’t make royal jelly,
So I’ve never actually had a real queen bee in my brain
Your colony will think they know all about mine
But my hive is not like your preconceived ideas.
All queenless hives work differently.
Sometimes the hive will send forth a worker bee to act as a queen,
A mock queen to trick the other hives
Into thinking that we are normal.
Some hives get good at it, but me?
The poor thing has never had a clue.
The bees did their best but, it’s not enough.
It was never enough.
The hive I have sees the world differently:
Time is fluid,
Numbers are weird,
Thoughts run wild,
And I can’t move.
The hive is not just “can’t sit still and pay attention,”
It’s attacking itself,
It’s telling you, “You are not good enough.”
Unless you are the best at something, but not even that is good enough for you.
Someone can tell you you’ve done well,
But the underlying tone…
It may or may not really be there
But I see it.
The bees will fight one another,
They will fly into walls trying to avoid problems
And sting me for thinking I’ve done well…
I have bees in my brain,
And they do not know what they are doing.
I Have bees in my brain,
And they have no one to look to.
I HAVE bees in my brain,
They cannot be ignored.
I HAVE BEES in my brain,
They will not go away.
I HAVE BEES IN my brain,
They are real.
I HAVE BEES IN MY brain,
They are trying to be like others but they can’t.
I HAVE BEES IN MY DAMN BRAIN,
AND THERE IS NOTHING ANYONE CAN DO TO FIX IT!
…
Because I do not need to be fixed,
I am the way I will be.
Be it by a god’s will, or just some off-stroke of twisted luck,
I have queenless bees in my brain, and this is what they like to do.
Like other hives, I think I’m amazing at one big thing
And many, many small things
And not so good with others.
So I am writing to please the bees.
I am writing my own story
Because people like me need to hear it
to know they are not alone.
I am writing to show my stripes
Because no one else will.
I am writing for fun.
The bees like writing,
The bees use writing to work things out.
Sometimes they write things that are not to show,
Sometimes they write things because they have to,
And sometimes they write small things, to tell a small story.
I think I’m okay with it.
Velocity 
Leave a comment