Bones of Peacocks

There is this photo
I'm sixteen standing,
Leaning really...
Against my walnut tree
A blue peacock shirt
Glitter feathers on fabric
One can see my bones
Pressed under the fabric
My collarbones prominent
My neck gangly, swanlike
You can see my knuckles
As my palms are laid flat
Against the gray bark
My lips a redish pink
Highlighting the healing split lip
Red marks on my cheeks
Like angry freckles of teenage hormones
I look at this photo
And I look in the mirror
And I'm drowning in shame
Suffocating in my body
Trapped in this flesh prison