Few experiences are as familiar as being unable to stop thinking about someone, and "Apart" starts right in the middle of that obsession. Its first word, "You're," sits alone on its line, so the beloved takes over before the speaker has said anything about themselves. The sentence that follows slips grammatically: "Someone that I constantly thinking about" is missing a helping verb. We can't tell whether that is a deliberate stumble or just an unpolished voice. Either way, the speaker sounds too preoccupied to build a tidy sentence.
The imagery draws on two kinds of suffering, illness and war. The beloved is "plaguing my head" and "invading my thoughts," so they are both an infection and an occupying army. Then the conflict moves inside. The heart, "once mine," has "started to betray / Me, / Going to war with my mind." The speaker's own body has become a traitor, and the territory being fought over is the speaker. The heart-versus-mind opposition is an old idea, but the word "betray" gives it a sharper edge. A heart that defects is not just confused. It has switched sides.
The most interesting line is "Telling me to forget you, to embrace you." The poem never says which part of the speaker gives which order. Both commands sit in one line, in the same grammatical frame, joined by a comma. "Forget" is a verb of erasure, and "embrace" is physical and close. Putting them side by side makes the contradiction feel like a single thought that can't decide what it wants.
There is no regular rhyme or steady meter here, so the poem's music comes from smaller things. Many lines end in present participles: "Plaguing," "invading," "Breaking," "Going," "Telling," "ripping," "tearing." The repeated -ing endings make the torment feel ongoing, with no finished action to rest on. The closest the poem comes to rhyme is the echo between "start" at the end of line four and "Apart" at the end of line ten. The fantasies "slowly start / Breaking," and several lines later the breaking is complete.
The line breaks do much of the damage. "Breaking" is isolated on its own line, so the word is broken off from the sentence that produced it. Similarly, "betray / Me," strands the pronoun away from the verb that acts on it, splitting the sentence the way the speaker is split. The reader has to jump the gap to complete the meaning. The same thing happens with "ripping, tearing me / Apart," where the title word is held back until the last moment and then left hanging, with a comma and a blank line after it. The form acts out what the words describe.
"Apart" works in two senses. The speaker is torn into pieces, and the speaker is also separate from the person they are thinking about. The "us" exists only in "small fantasies and dreams," which are exactly what is breaking. So the poem describes an inner division and a distance from the beloved at once, and the title covers both.
After all the violent metaphors, the final line is deliberately flat: "All because of my feelings. My feelings of you." The tone drops from war to plain admission. The repetition narrows the first sentence into the second, and the preposition is unusual. These are feelings "of" you, not "for" you, as if the feelings were made of the person. The poem began on "You're" and ends on "you," so it closes in a circle. That suits a speaker who can't find a way out of the thought.
Nothing in the poem is new in its basic claim, since divided hearts are everywhere in love poetry. Its value lies in how well the structure carries the feeling, and in its candour. The last line admits that this whole battlefield is just feelings, which readers may well recognise from their own lives. It is a short poem that rewards slow reading, and a useful example of how line breaks, word placement and a single doubled-meaning title can do the work of rhyme and meter.