Nine short lines, no punctuation, no capital letters: the poem looks as if it were typed in one go and sent before the writer could change their mind. Its subject is the leftover feeling after a closeness has slipped away. The speaker still loves someone, still talks to them, and is the only one who seems to be hurting. The central idea is a paradox. The speaker is relieved not to have "broken" the other person, and that same gentleness has cost them a pain they carry alone.
The opening sets up the imbalance at once: "only one of us is crying / and its not you." The speaker never says "I am crying". We get it by subtraction, which makes the sentence sound flat and almost accusing. Two people are involved, one is in tears, and the poem starts with the verdict. Yet the ending softens that accusation. By the last lines the speaker is "glad i didnt break you." So the poem holds two feelings at once: some hurt at being the only one who cries, and real tenderness toward the person who doesn't. Which feeling wins is left open, and that uncertainty is what makes the closing "but still love you" ache. The "but" suggests the speaker feels that being glad and still loving should not sit together, and yet they do.
The key phrase, "bittersweet feeling," appears twice, near the start and again as the poem turns toward its ending. It works like a frame, and it is also a little ironic. The first time, the speaker says the feeling arises "when im texting you / and its worse than ever." The line break matters here. "Texting you" is where the line could end, as a small moment of contact, and the next line pulls it into pain. The sweetness of hearing from someone becomes a sign of what has changed. By "worse than ever," the word "bittersweet" no longer seems to fit, because the sweet half has almost drained away. The second time the phrase appears, it introduces the generosity of "glad i didnt break you", so the sweetness returns as a protective instinct rather than as pleasure.
The imagery is minimal, and the poem's best moment is a single ordinary object. "Everything reminds me of you" is a worn phrase, but the next line makes it concrete: "even only seeing the train makes me want to cry." The words "even only" shrink the trigger to almost nothing, and that is the point. Grief is no longer set off by anything dramatic, just by a train passing. The poem never says why the train matters. Judging by the text, it could point to travel or distance, but the poem gives no explanation, and it is stronger for leaving the reader to wonder. What we learn is that the speaker's world has become a set of reminders.
There is no rhyme and no regular meter. The poem follows the rhythm of speech, with lines stretching and snapping back. The longest lines, the texting line and the train line, carry the rush of feeling. The shortest, "and its not you" and "but still love you," land like admissions. A quiet pattern of repeated words holds it together: "you" closes five of the nine lines, while "crying" and "cry" sit at the first and last moments of the pain. The poem is built from just those two things, the person and the tears, and the reader feels how thoroughly one has taken over the other. Even the missing apostrophes in "its," "im" and "didnt" add to the effect, as if the speaker has no energy to polish anything.
The line given with the poem, «du verschwendest deine zeit 35», is German for "you are wasting your time," while the poem itself is in English. I can't say what the "35" refers to, or whether the German is a title, a tag, or something else. As a reading, though, the phrase could be an outside voice telling the speaker to move on, or the speaker's own doubt. Either way, it adds a second layer of pressure to a poem that is already about feelings that refuse to be reasoned away.
What makes the poem worth reading is its restraint. It doesn't blame, beg, or explain; it states a few plain facts and lets the contradiction between them do the work. The unusual twist is the final reversal: the speaker's pain is partly the price of having been kind, and the poem treats that price as something they would, with mixed feelings, pay again.