By Dameien Nathaniel
1.
2007 and I have gotten my first flip phone.
We are hanging out after the after school
art club, and Alyssa has just informed me
that this cell phone can take photos.
You just have to open it, access the camera,
hold the phone at arm’s length, and do your best,
since you can’t see yourself on the screen.
My hair is dirty blond, my clothes
are ripped hand-me-downs from my sisters,
and my arms are covered by sleeves that cover
wristbands so no one can see the Band-Aids.
2.
2011 and I’m a little late to the smartphone game.
I bought it just so I could talk to my new crush.
I haven’t yet figured out how to send him photos,
but taking them is the same as before,
it’s just made a little easier with mirrors.
So bathroom selfie, posed and using
the reflection to see if I look good. Just enough
clothing to hide my thighs, arms still needing
to be covered for the same reason, a little bit
of cleavage, and the currently popular duck face.
3.
2013 and my new phone has a forward-facing camera.
My hair is the shortest it has ever been,
but that doesn’t scare boys away, somehow it interests
the girls though. I have just downloaded SnapChat
and I appreciate that no one gets to see
these photos for more than three seconds. Pose
in front of the dorm bathroom mirror, pose at the
dorm welcome desk while working, pose lying
in my dorm bed, every one with a peace sign
blocking my face. My friends ask me for wya photos.
Strangers find me and ask for nudes.
4.
2018 and this phone has hit the ground so many times,
I’m amazed it still works with all the cracks.
One photo in the hotel room, smiling, hiding
that I’m shaking. The second in hospital gown
with an IV in my arm, sent to SnapChat with the caption
see you all in a few hours. The third taken
in my mother’s car on the drive home.
I’m posing in sunglasses, an exaggerated pout,
and using my free hand to pull my shirt down
just enough to show off the surgical binder. I caption this
Well, that’s a huge weight off my chest.
5.
2023 and I don’t know why this phone needs
four cameras, but it was the cheapest option.
I haven’t been blond since 2008, and I haven’t
covered cuts with Band-Aids since 2013. I tried
the selfie-a-day challenge and never stopped,
but most of them stay in my private albums.
A smile at the zoo with friends, a cute outfit
in the mirror before work, a bubble bath with
wine and music, a funny hat on a Tuesday,
a picture of myself standing in front of a cliff–
and a memory where I no longer want to jump.
Dameien Nathaniel is a queer, trans, autistic poet from the Northeast United States. They are currently pursuing their MFA in poetry from Arcadia University, with their work centering around themes of trauma, loss, mental health, and queer identity. Dameien can be found performing at open mics and slams throughout New England.
Photo courtesy of Dameien Nathaniel.
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