oneword: delicate

my thick-skinned facade
is like an armor, almost, rippled,
everything i hate most about myself,
stitched and fired until it glows red hot,
settling in that cold gray i've become all too comfortable hiding beneath.
i am not tough. i am not strong.
what i am,
is a liar.
i can break my own heart on a daily basis.
i worry that if i poke my head out,
someone will deem me too delicate to make it,
out in the real world,
where i could actually get hurt.
or worse, i may not remember how to feel anything at all.