Spending years chasing dragons and
Finding the high just often enough to
Let me taste the eternal uncanny and
Whet my appetite for it again but
I lost my access to the steady supply
Suffered the pangs of withdrawal from
The intoxicants rolled up in those papers and
Taken in through eyes and hands and nose
Eased by grinding through the baser stuff
Enough to keep me going through the pain but not
Enough to ease the longing that
I still feel
The methadone with which I dose myself now
Does not stop the cravings that wrack me and
I need no naloxone to end the high
That ended long ago even though
I still chase it across the world and
Sometimes one of the few hits I can get
Will bring a touch of that old joy again but
There is no treatment program for this addiction and
There is no cure for it for any of us
Who have taken this thing into us across the years and
Tried to make it our lives
Freebasing in the basement of the ivory tower and
Unable to ascend from its lower floors to where
A steadier supply can be had
Even if it, too, is cut with other things

Care to send some help my way?