For the prompt Strange Bedfellows at Sunday Scribblings:
Stuck in the middle,
Between the Me I used to be,
And the Me I want to be,
Is the Me I am now.
And like perfect strangers –
Waking up in the same bed
After a liquor doused night
and debauchery to forget,
They can’t relate
To just how different
They really are.
A Geek's Life 
I find it difficult to write to this prompt… too many ways to be obvious. Your approach… ahhh now that works. truely strange bedfellows are we.
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Yes, the duplicity within ourselves perceived as a strange night of play and an even stranger morning of consciousness. This is great!
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Wow! The ending is such a surprise. Love when that happens. Also, this poem is so hopeful for anyone who wants to change or think they are just born to be a certain way.
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