my name remains the same

nothing seems to be constant about me,
except for my name which remains the same.
my body is constantly reshaping:
skinny
fat
muscular
vastly mediocre.
my skin is just a canvas
that i constantly paint upon
with tattoos
that my parents hate.
there is a smile on my lips
and anger in my eyebrows.
i am lethargic.
no, i am energetic.
i eat jars of peanut butter at 3 am
and chicken salads at 2 pm.
i am grumpy
and lovely
and funny
and easily annoyed.
i am lonely
and this love is overwhelming
and i hope you never leave me
and i need to be alone.
i am hot
and cold
and far too lukewarm.
i am in a college dormitory.
no, i am living in my car.
no, i am back in my parent's guest bedroom.
i am suicidal
and exuberant about life
and now i am bored
and i hear demons whispering in my ear
and life is such a beautiful thing.
i am walking on cobblestone streets
and safari roads
and dominican beaches
and i haven't left my bed in two weeks.
i am shouting:
angry
happy
hopeful
heartbroken.
i am writing a screenplay.
no, a memoir.
no, a novel.
no, a collection for souls like mine!
i am a shapeshifter,
but my name remains the same.