Feast or Famine

There are two cups of extremes and a half cup of moderation.

One too many teaspoons of sugar, yet not enough salt. 

Unbearably stuffed to the neck, far surpassed the satisfaction of indulgence.

The final straw leading to the next weeks of guilt and regret. 

Now it's one too many sips of water and not enough self-confidence. 

Counting units of energy to spare yourself from doom and shame.

The half cup is abandoned. It's left waiting to be taken into consideration.

The grey area, equally black as it is white. "Porportionate" they'd say.

The scale waits for the day, where it too, can reflect the real meaning of beauty.

When it becomes a symbol of accomplishment and not a concrete number society has set in resemblence to a cookie cutter sheet. 

Mediocre, lacking character and individuality.