You are still a whisper on my lips 
A feeling at my fingertips 
That's pulling at my skin

She's beautiful… Lying there, still and cold, her pale face and deep pink lips, her blonde curls falling neatly around her waist, which is covered in a pale blue dress that matched her eyes, which are closed. Her name is still a whisper on my lips; her hands still a feeling at my fingertips, pulling so slightly. A single tear rolls down my cheek. I'm going to miss her. 

You leave me when I'm at my worst 
Feeling as if I've been cursed

Bitter cold within

She left me when I was at my worst. I had just lost my job and I was flat broke. And then that damned Harry Potter had to come to my door and tell me she was dead. He'd hit her with his big red truck because he wasn't watching. I wanted to slap him. I started to cry. He said he was sorry. I punched him in the face. He stumbled backward and fell off the step. He wound up with stitches in his head. I was charged. They dropped the charges. The whole time, she was gone, leaving me with a bitter cold inside my stomach. I felt like I'd been cursed. 

Days go by and still I think of you 
Days when I couldn't live my life without you 
Days go by and still I think of you 
Days when I couldn't live my life without you 
Without you 
Without you

It's been 10 days and still I think of her. Her soft hair, her light blue eyes. Her laugh, her smile. Her kiss. Those were days when I couldn't live my life without her. Without her slim body pressed against mine during those long, cold nights. 

You are still a whisper on my lips 
A feeling at my fingertips 
That's pulling at my skin 
 
Her friends all came to see her before the funeral. I was left to wonder, do they still whisper her name, expecting to see her? Do they still feel her soft fingers pulling at their hands? Can they hear her voice late at night? I somehow doubt it.
 
 
 
 
Days go by and still I think of you 
Days when I couldn't live my life without you 
Days go by and still I think of you 
Days when I couldn't live my life without you 
Without you 
Without you
Without you
Without you
Without you
 
 
I still think of her. Her hair, her eyes. Her figure, her curves. The days she was alive were days that I thought, without her, I would die. But here I am, without her, and I'm alive. Good bye, Penelope Clearwater-Wood, from your loving husband, Oliver Wood. I love you and you will forever be thought of.