Bad mood, bad poem

Trill it as fast as you did the day you said you lost
Everything in a deep pulse, suspended.
Tap it out quickly now, how
All the world felt and scratched
At you because you were tawny and you sighed too loud.
Know this: we were all drenched in it,
Smelled of red rust and Fearsomely striped.
Recoiled and retching we floated until
What they saw, all they saw,
Was that we were torn and empty,
Arching in the air.