Respite Poem by grace mariner

It is said the human eye cannot see what it's mind cannot accept as real.
We survive without the majick so we can avoid the pain, the fear.
I am blinded lately, rarely glancing towards anything that reminds me of your
disappearance.
It is a sleight of hand, an illusion of smoke and mirrors.
It is majick that I care not to share in.
But just as the loss of one sense enhances all the others,
so it is with memories of you.
My refusal to see the places we haunted does not erase
the pain.
It cuts as sharp as ever, deep and jagged, leaving a void
within my chest.
There is no respite, no escape from it, as it comes to me,
brightly illuminated by my minds eye.
I can refuse my senses but I cannot defy my emotion.