Inanition

I've decided to kill myself. 

I'm going to callously disregard my bodies most basic requirements, hold hostage precious nutrients and eventually deplete my tortured shell of its soul

Why? Because children are dying.

So I find myself lying upon the cold  ground, chained to the famine man, the inspiration for my decay lies firmly within his oxidised copper armour. Hallow he be. 

When I wish to feast I simply glance into his sunken eyes and he offers me the bitter sweet heart of humanitys demise. 

Starvation has evolved through our prolonged history of violent wars and for that, I will suffer more. My metabolic defence system arms itself with ration packs of fat, preparing for the end of days. 

This isn't some craze, some moment of madness, there are many like me, ready to die, ready to show the people of earth that we are living in an unjust society, that we eat while children starve.

I push and kick the takeaways away, the smell of your food fills my nostrils with disgust. All I want is the scent of rust, bursting from my bloated belly. 

Euphoria arrives as my cell function degenerates, dismantling string theory from existence, I can see light guiding me into oblivion and with my last breath I rest, hoping that my frail grey frame will Don success 

Starvation, 

It's not a disease.