Starving Butterflies

I'm not scared of heights but I'm afraid of falling
This armor's heavy but its served me well
Deflect and brace for impact, ignore the calling
If you found a weakness I wouldn't tell

Swallowed caterpillars turn to butterflies
they make a dangerous nemesis.
Softness and love are their guise
and in my stomach they ecesis.

The deepest wounds, now ossified
are gouges from love's beast.
It took me out from inside
now on the scars, monarchs feast.

I ponder the winged omens, to feed or flame?
Do I starve the hardy swallowtails
that fly at the sight of your name,
or let go to witness their crescendo gale?