A measure of love

You measure love,
Dripping, like time, in crystal droplets
By messages left, pin marks in the door.
'I'm so popular,' you told me,
Not believing it yourself.
I talked. You tried to listen,
But there was so much more.
'Not one person loves me.'
No sneering, a practical impossibility,
If only because you were wrong.
'I think I should kill myself.'
Serious? Long voice drawls words
On the edge of subconscious.
I pretend to know what it's like,
And you pretend to listen.
Time glazes your eyes.
You measure love,
But not mine.