This Poem isn’t about bees - It’s about the systems that expect sameness - ND, Dystopia, and the Horror of Sameness

This poem isn’t about bees at all. It’s about the systems that expect sameness — the hive‑logic of schools, workplaces, families, society — and how ND wiring refuses to shrink into one assigned role. ND people aren’t built for silent obedience, for repetition without meaning, for being reduced to function. The hive is the dystopia. The Handmaid echo is deliberate: women reduced to usefulness, ND people labelled “difficult,” everyone expected to serve the system. I’m not writing about bees. I’m writing about what happens when a world built on uniformity meets a mind built for difference.

HIVE LOGIC

(ND, Dystopia, and the Horror of Sameness)

Poem

Hive

A hive. Living in a hive.

One role. Accepting. Accepted. Accountable.

One role.

It’s so dystopian.

ND could never. Be the same. Do the same. Be trusted with the role.

How could anything be created, accepted — or could it?

Watch. See. Do.

One task. Busy bee.

Wave. Feeling. Shared hormones. Pheromones. Vibrations. Hum. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Foragers. Unity. Be good. Do good. Task. Purpose. Hive.

Handmaiden.

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