Under Pressure

I have felt as though I were made of lava these past weeks.
The ground shifted beneath my feet.
My foundation buckled and steam began boiling upward and outward.
I thought that I might explode.
But I may have vented just enough.
There is a crust forming over the molten torrent.
It is still there, slowing into plasma, waiting to be stirred.
Explosions no longer seem imminent.