A/N: Hello! I wanted to do a very short one-shot, just some sadness from Jane... Forgive me! I didn't write the poet, someone else did =). Thanks to that person! (L)
Disclaimer: The Mentalist is not mine, as is the poet.
Jane dropped the pen he was holding. Sometimes, he felt like he had to talk to somebody. Had to relieve this constant pulling pressure on his heart, not wanting to go away. But he couldn't. He shouldn't. So he wrote his feelings down. No people, just him and the pieces of paper he burned afterwards. What was the point of it? He did not know. But it made him feel a bit better, so he didn't stop.
Lisbon walked out of her office, ready to leave home. But she saw Jane was still laying on his couch. He desperately needed to get a life. What was so comfortable about his couch anyway? She entered the bullpen, and saw a pen and paper laying on Jane's desk. She reached out to get it, not wanting Jane to wake up. If he was sleeping.
"You can see me.
That I already know.
But can you REALLY see me?
The real me.
You believe my lies.
And you never ever see me cry,
I'm strong.
On the outside,
But on the inside
I'm wanting to die.
I know that seems bad.
But you know not of how sad I am.
On the Inside.
So, can you see the pain
behind my beautiful mask?
My eyes that shine
But on the inside
I'm dying."
Lisbon dropped the paper, and turned to face Jane, who was sitting up straight on his couch now, looking at her. With a sad face. He was really sad, not the fake sad she had seen before. No, this was real. No jokes. No laughs. No hitting. Serious. And for once, Lisbon saw behind his mask.
A/N: Short, I know! But I wanted to do this! I found this poet (it's really beautiful, btw!) and I just HAD to use it! So, here you go =).