Who am I?

My body?

              My views?

                             My clothes?

                                              My name?

Or none.

They say a name is an address for the body.

So when we die we can be identified.

But I go by many names.

At birth, my parents said it was Sophia Patricia Baczak.

Yet they proceeded to call me Paczki and Pumpkin.

When kids in school called me Paczki.

I told them it was Sophia, but was it? 

Mom and Dad said both just as much.

Growing up my name took new forms.

It was like being reborn.

When one friendship died they labeled me by their nickname. 

Saying to others ‘I knew this girl one time her name was… NICKNAME’…and so on.

I learned over time that my name was not mine to decide.

I could tell them one, but they would make another. 

I might say this but they would say that.

Can I be thing one?

No, we think thing two is more you. 

You start to wonder who you are anymore. 

I might as well be considered a Pictionary board with all the names I hold. 

I was sold. 

Over and over for the one who could make the next best one.

I was asked what I preferred at times but multiple choice always left me unable to decide. 

A) Sophia
The classic.

B) Patricia 
My late grandma's name. My family always said we looked the same.

C) Baczak
Wait, that's too formal. And they might think I’m uptight. 

D) Nicknames 
Which is always fun. But not appropriate for everyone.

E) None 
There’s gotta be a rule against that one. 

Let’s start over.

Hi, I go by many names. 

But for now, I’m just me.