Disclaimer: Yadda yadda.
A/N: First Mentalist poem! Basically, how dependent on his wife and daughter Jane still is, and how he's falling in love with Lisbon, and the conflict between the two.
He Cries Himself To Sleep
He cries himself to sleep sometimes,
When the memories are too strong,
Hugs his knees to his chest and prays,
That it won't last too long.
He hears child's laughter in his dreams,
Sees his wife's loving, smiling eyes,
And yet he can't see or hear them,
When he's awake, or when he tries.
In the day, hers is the only voice he hears,
And hers the only eyes he ever sees,
Part of him thinks that she's his future,
A twisting in his stomach disagrees.
But his throat is parched for blood,
And vengeance lies in his heart,
He can't imagine loving again,
He wouldn't know where to start.
So he tries not to think about,
The way she makes his pulse race,
Or how he hurts when she's sad,
Or the smile she brings his face.
He curls into a ball at night,
And waits until the dreams arrive,
When he can see them clearly again,
He needs their visits to survive.
But in the morning when he sees her,
He forgets his world of night,
They live in the darkness now,
And she brings him his light.
Not sure about it, but I decided posting would make me feel productive.