As to two of you men, whose stories I have heard, there is no doubt in my mind that you were 100% hopeless, apart from divine help. ~ Alcoholics Anonymous, page 43

What was it like
in the throes of addiction?
How miserable were you
to have fled to these rooms?
How low a bottom did you reach
before straining upward,
out from the pit?
My heart goes out to you
yet undercurrents force distance,
retreat. It seems that your
neediness will suck life from me,
will drag you with me, ensnared,
submerged. Tell me – even just hint —
a corner will emerge, the pain will recede.
Does not what is good prevail
in the end?