fish in the sea

He doesn’t make himself available, you see, because he’s actually a closed shell. Apparently whoever he was with put him through hell.
They’re not together anymore.

He will tell you all about himself, while he is out there, on the scene. Yes he is there, only to meet his needs.
Is this the man I get? Stung by a woman I have never met, eaten inside and clinging to hurt, as though going a step further would bury him in the earth.

Is this the man I get? Stung by a woman I have never met. She’s gone after the time
it took to create, keep, and end. The only thing I may have of him is something resembling a friend. A friend I fool around with; a friend of absent feelings; and a friend punishing me for someone else’s crime.

I am not her, and she is not me. When will he get it; when will any of them see? I’m a fish swimming in another sea.