instinct

You know that feeling of dread that lies in the deepest part of your belly? It's a mix of fear, anticipation, it makes your anxious, like something bad is about to happen and you just know it. But the funny thing is, you just can't place why. It's a deep, instinctual feeling that sends your mind and gut churning for the possibility. When a thunderstorm is coming, the dark clouds start to gather, indicating what's coming. The air becomes charged with a tangible electricity that puts your hair on end, sets your teeth on edge. My [our] air is charging right now, building, building, but what's next? I don't know if I'm just doing that over-analyzing thing again or if there's something truly there. It's like a catch in the way you speak, touch me, look at me, guarded. I feel that I'm so in tune with you, I can tell when something is off. I don't know what to do about either... "Is there anything wrong...?" "Nope, nothing's wrong." That's the way it goes every time. Until I finally just tell you I know. I'm afraid though, afraid of the possibility of an end to it all.
It's probably just a deceptive trick of my ever-swirling mind. Time will tell the truth.