Ward 23

6:45.
Popcorn.

The continuous ringing insists you drag yourself from the yin-yang rug and put on a red dress. Shoes to match, no time for your hair, cut it all off.
Snip-snip-snip, falling locks enter the sewer system, choking rats.
"Quiet, they're sleeping", mutters the wallpaper, the little purple flowers with 'ZZZ' abover theit weary heads.
The politeness of the morning light is non-existant, you decide as you take a step in to the kitchen vortex to hide for a little while. Emerge, and they'll all be gone and you'll be back in ward 23.
A whirlpool approaches.

7:45
Unicorn.

The continuous beeping insists you drag yourself from the dope-scented couch and put on your best tie. Smile to match, no time for your face, slice it all off.
Hack-hack-hack, falling blood enters the tile pattern, drowning ants.
"Quiet, they're sleeping", mutters the mother of two, the little goblen thieves with 'ZZZ' above their ugly heads.
The politeness of the morning night is so welcoming, you decide as you take a step in to the street vortex to escape for a little while. Re-enter, and they'll all be gone and you'll be back in ward 23.
A whirlpool approaches.

9:45
Sandstorm.

On the streets, the mother of two in the red dress, matching shoes, no hair. Face painted to match the wallpaper, purple and tired. Wipe it all off.
Smile-smile-smile, for the love of God, smile, entertain the customers!
"Quiet, they're sleeping", mutters the brick wall, the little winged creatures with 'ZZZ' above their tiny heads.
It happens to be the promised better tomorrow, you decide that everyone is a liar as you take a step back in to the mish-mash of your head. Exit, and they'll all be looking at you funny and you'll be back in ward 23.
A doctor approaches.

3:45
Uniform.

On the bed, the mother of two in the white straightjacket, matching sheets, no hair. Face painted to match the state of her mind, no expression. Take it all away.
Medicate-medicate-medicate, for the love of God, medicate, please the doctors!
"Quiet, she's sleeping", mutters the frowning nurse, the little lady with '???' above her distant head.
'It happens to be the promised better tomorrow', she thinks, 'but still I'm in ward 23, and yet, never really anywhere'. Connect, and they'll let you back out in to the world you despise so much.
A suicide approaches.