Plentiful in nothing but want, and wanting nothing but plenty.
The more you posses, the less you are worth. You're giving up your identity to entities;
you've become your own worst enemy- fighting over ownership.
The leash has become a ball and chain.
Inanimate and intimate go hand in hand, holding precedence.
But what are they really holding onto?
My principality pities me.
I envy it's lifeless tranquility.
Fingers plugged in the sockets, leaching on it's lifeless energy.
Anemia from blood sales exchanged for watered down intimacy.
But you can't receive empathy from personal treasury.
Plentiful in nothing but want, and wanting nothing but plenty.

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