Unknown leads the mind

Unknown leads the mind to a negative place, 
I hate to add on the burden you possibly have, 
or abuse the privilege of once in a blue moon contact,
with the risk of heartbreak, 
and hearing my own voice echoing in a deserted space, 
but, what happened? is everything okay?

Your kindness save me when I needed it the most.
I grit through that horrendous week,
by reciting your reply like a spell of courage.
I hope I'm proven to be paranoid,
hope for the chance to make an awkward smile of misunderstood,
I hope my assumption to be totally wrong, 

if only you're alright.

Not sure if I'm longing for something, conclusive, 
like a death sentence.
or rather drunk my head in the sand, 
in the deceiving false hope, of unknown.

未知 將思緒領往負面，
我不願平添 你的負擔，
或濫用千載一遇的聯繫特權，
冒著心碎和，
聽見自己的聲音在荒涼空間中，迴盪的風險，
但問，究竟怎麼了？ 一切都還好嗎？

你的善意在最需要的時刻，給了我救贖。
如同勇氣之咒文般，靠著默頌你的回覆，
我咬牙撐過人生最黑暗的一週。
希望事實證明，我只是偏執亂想，
希望有機會一笑置之，誤解的尷尬，
希望我的假設，大錯特錯，

只願你安好。

不確定我是否真心渴望某種，
一如死刑般，蓋棺論定的結果。
還是寧願繼續把頭醉埋沙中，
在未知所涵括的虛望中，自欺逃脫。

[Explanation of my writing (I'm conscious of my uncomfortable honesty)]

I write pretentious creepy 'sort of' poem, 
play with words to express feelings overflow. 
If only that feeling is important enough for me, 
to give it a form, a structure, to keep.
I follow no rules, and studied nothing,
just pretentious cringy freestyle expression of feelings.
I write in second language, and with my ears.
The distant unfamiliarity gives me the space to be objective, 
and freedom to breakdown, misuse on purpose. 
Through the creativity I reorganize, 
and combing through the feelings.
Through neurotic rewrites and tweaking, try to regain my sanity.
Something I can't help, but just be.