One word does almost all the work in «you»: the pronoun itself. Bananie opens with "you you you" and closes on a lone "you", so the poem ends where it began, the way the speaker's thoughts can't get out of their loop. It describes unrequited love, not the dramatic kind but the tiring, everyday kind that has seeped into every hour. Its central idea is that devotion can rearrange a whole life around someone who doesn't share the feeling, and that knowing this changes nothing.
The form suits that idea. There is no rhyme and no punctuation, and the spelling is stripped down to "thats", "dont", "cant", "im". The result sounds less like a composed poem than a confession typed out in one go. With no full stops, nothing ever resolves. The most important device is the refrain "its you", which turns the poem into a kind of ledger of everything the speaker can't escape. Its short, speech-like lines work like a pulse, and the bare "its you" that sometimes stands alone as a whole line acts like a sigh between longer items.
Against that pulse, one line stretches out: "when i see the sun set and the clouds turn to beautiful shades of oranges and pinks". It is the only image given colour, and the line itself lingers, as if the speaker has stopped to look. Then the next line cuts it down to "its you". Beauty gets one breath before it is claimed. The other triggers are deliberately ordinary: a sad song, a guitar, the rain. The guitar is a specific detail, and judging by the imagery it may carry a particular memory, though the poem never says so. Even "home" is taken over, since "when i think of home i think of you" makes a person into a place.
The poem's best moments are its contradictions. "Its you when i cant sleep / its you when i do" leaves no state of mind untouched. "When i cant think / and when i can i cant" folds back on itself like the thought it describes. The prefix "over" appears in "oversleep" and "overthink", and then the speaker admits to loving "too much but not enough", excess and shortfall at once. The sharpest pairing is "makes me insane" against "keeps me on this earth". The beloved is both the disturbance and the anchor, and the poem leaves that unresolved.
The turn comes with "i guess a part of me hopes it will all go away / because it will never be me". This is the only place where the speaker wishes instead of reporting, and "guess" softens it, as if she can't fully commit even to wanting relief. Then the pronouns shift. "Its her you think about when you hear the rain" borrows the poem's own formula, "its you when i hear a sad song", but reverses it. Now "you" is the one who thinks and "her" is the one thought about. The poem suggests the beloved is in love with someone else, and the speaker knows the details well: "she keeps you up / she makes you happy / she helps you forget". That level of knowledge implies close observation. "Helps you forget" also hints that the beloved has something to forget, though the poem doesn't say what.
The ending refuses the easy exit. "Although i know this / for me it will always be / you" breaks across three lines so that "be" hangs in the air before the final word lands alone. It is hard to say whether this is resignation or stubborn loyalty. Probably it is both.
What makes the poem worth reading is its restraint. It has no elaborate metaphors and no attempt to sound wise. It makes a single word carry more and more weight until it feels like the whole vocabulary of one person's mind. Its clearest insight is that the speaker can see her situation perfectly, the rival and the odds included, and still can't feel any differently.