Stop it please.
The new day struggled to stand up on three little minutes.
Can't you see? Can't you see that I am fading away from you? In 40 minutes I will be gone. I will vanish into floating memories that creep into your mind when you're trying to sleep at night.
Please stop it.
I am almost gone. I look solid but really you could walk right through me and I wouldn't notice a thing. I'm fading, fading, decaying into gas and still you try to catch me in empty bottles to display on your shelves.