The day is young and I begrudgingly traipse out of the covers to check my messages.
My seventeen inches of pride lies proudly slumped across the desk - a laptop.
I lovingly push the plug, slowly, but forcefully into the socket.
The switch is turned on.
Now I use my finger to hover around the power button.
I gently rub it before pushing it in.
Electricity surges through it. Lights spring into action and it starts -
Sounds of an engine revving, purring.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes, before moving my fingers lower,
Descending towards the keys,
And place them softly down, sprawled across the keyboard
Before assuming the appropriate position.
Now, a strange thing happens.
Each button slowly starts to rise up,
Inserting and engulfing themselves in my fingers.
They burrow deeply into my fingerprints -
An abyss of identity caressed by technology.
It doesn't stop.
Meanwhile, the plug has detached,
The lights surviving on battery power alone.
It grows hotter.
The cable slithers across the floor,
Slowly working its way up the inner side of my legs.
It wraps itself around my calves and rises up between my thighs.
The chair gets thrown from beneath me across the room
As I forcefully drop to my knees.
Both my fists are now inside the machine,
Swallowed by blackness.
The cable has worked its way around my waist and up to my neck.
It caresses my ear as it tightens, before making its chiselled tips towards  my mouth -
A literal three-pronged attack.
I can only kneel motionless, and gag as it enters my mouth,
And scream silently in horror as it forces my head down,
Dragging me completely inside as I choke on its power source.
Swallowed by blackness -
An abyss of identity ***** by technology,
Standing silently on the desk, seemingly unmoved,
Until it runs out of battery and dies.