What lies beneath our laughter?
What is the shadow to our bliss?
White lies are painted black, to blend into the dark.

What signs do I look out for?
If any at all.
That my paranoia has been tainted, with truth - and truth alone.

What do I recall?
An amalgamation of insecurity.
Fog on glass, cuts on my name.
Praise him, the bait that stung the soul.