Floating - Poem

Why do we act as we do?
In most cases, not by a lot of thought.

Seething anger,
At the tip of your fist,
Burning words on the tongue,
There it would be ready for work.

Love is a failure of your dreams,
Squashed into the drains of evil.

Spluttering and shuddering,
It went down into the depths of hell.

Tingling sensation all over,
Never ever was a thought set out.

How soon can it be made invisible?
How soon?

The faster it gets twisted,
Lesser there is to be seen.

There it was,
Only a matter of time.