How a heart breaks

It does not break with a big bang.

First there is a small hole, like 
mice starting to nibble away 
pieces of cheese.
You hear the noises of little feet
scratching, tapping, the munching. 
You see the crumbs
covering the ground.
You know the mice are there, but 
you cannot find them, so
you clean up and pretend 
it is just your imagination.
You do this day after day after day
until finally you look for the cheese: 
it lost substance, 
cracks run through it like veins;
you take it and it falls apart, 
crumbles through your fingers,
falls into the silence whispering a last
I love you.

(C) February 24, 2011 - Morgue McMillan