My Krakatoa
Krakatoa is a volcano that erupted in 1883. It was the loudest sound humans have ever documented. The sound was heard thousands of miles away. It caused tsunamis up to 150' (30m) tall. If it happened today, the death toll would be truly horrifying. Making the tsunamis of 2011 and 2004 look like a kiddie pool.
In July 2022, I erupted, full of sound and fury — signifying….something? And my eruption caused pain and hurt to those in my life. And so this evening as I was told that the mention of my name was forbidden at a celebration of love with people I used to know, I sort of lost it. I’m not saying it isn’t deserved, but it hurt nonetheless. And I started writing.
My Krakatoa
my shoulders ache
and the tension
i feel starts in my head
and through my teeth
i am tired
so achingly tired
i don’t think i have been this tired
in months
or years
or ever
while the weight of myself
is no longer weighing on me
its imprint and carved canyons remain
i remember the moment that all i knew
or believed
was shaken to its core
by the violence of the unshackling
of my own self denial
the earthquake within my soul
is something i don’t think even richter could measure
how do you measure emotional subduction?
the long manic eruption
of my soul
has taken its toll
and tonight i feel like a mountain made low
by things i struggle still to understand
and the shame and doubt and denial well up within me
once again trying to goad me into submission and my previous apathy
the depth of the toll that has been extracted
from those i vowed to love and protect
my wife
my children
friends i thought i had
but we’re only there
for the previous costumed version of me
the me that was seemingly solid ground
that they all flourished on
the bedrock that everyone thought i was
yet i was never solid ground
neither was i sinking sand
imitation bedrock is more apropos
so much so that i believed it myself
but I was, unbeknownst to me, Krakatoa
erupting in such force that the only sound
that could be heard in my vicinity
was a sound so loud that no one could speak
or even form words
because of the violence caused
by the loudest sound ever heard
the force of my transformation
drowned out their cries and crying
yet I could not hear them
my Krakatoa leaving me temporarily deaf
during an eruption
you can either stay and die
or run as fast and far away as you can
and even then your chances are low
because you can’t fathom its speed and totality
and you paused briefly to admire the beauty
before you realized destruction was coming for you
it’s the suffocation that kills you
you cannot breath the burning ash
choking on what moments ago was solid ground
now becoming top soil in your coughing lungs
the ground shook and trembled
and the things that seemed sure-footed
were thrown about by the unleashed violence
sabotaged by the very ground
that they relied on for all of natural memory
and their pain did not even register
because a volcano cannot concern itself with anything but itself
and then silence
and aftershocks
and more silence
everyone, including me, stopping to hold our breath
wondering if another shock or eruption is coming
so now after months and months of violent public eruption
i feel the earth around me begin to solidify
and I know that while shaped differently
I am now safe again
as i look upon the burnt embers
of the verdant forests of love that surrounded me
forests that provided me oxygen
ash covered shadows of what they once were
i feel remorse for the devastation that i caused
was there another way?
logic says yes but how can you gracefully
blow off fifty years of pressure
that you did not even know was there?
a volcano can’t control itself
with forces within it that are more powerful
than we can imagine
churning in secret below the ground
and out of sight
it is after the cataclysm
that we can piece together the clues
in the landscape
sulfurous cracks we ignored
because a reliable geyser doesn’t seem erratic
tremors we grew to get used to
not realizing what they portended
and in secret places no one could see
steam released in shameful spurts
forestalling the inevitable
they were all glimpses
signs of the natural
disaster
to come
and now as the magma cools
and my new mantle forms,
new solid ground emerges
still warm and spiky not worn by time
sharp and dangerous to walk on
yet new ground for sure
i wonder how long it will take
for the verdant fields and forests around me
to grow back again
and for the deer and wildlife to return
no longer in the shadow of that uncaring mountain
when will we see green rolling hills again?
teeming with life and and purified streams
from the mineral springs now flowing
where disaster used to hide
and how long will they look over their shoulder
waiting for the solid ground that they tread upon
to possibly erupt again
because once bedrock fails you
can you really ever trust it again?
