A bottle of whiskey will ask me no questions,
Nor be unbearingly inquisitive, such as a human is prone to do.
It will just wrap it's warm, silky arms around me,
And make me feel safe and happy again.

Drugs will not pester me,
They will not make me feel guilty for my melancholy.
They merely allow me to soar higher,
Than a life in the dregs of society.

Solvent abuse does not make me feel better,
In fact, it makes me feel rather odd.
Though I have come to the conclusion that feeling odd,
Is better than feeling nothing at all.

It has to be said, that for all known detractions,
I find a narcotic to be far better company than a human.
A human is intolerable, irrational, often quite deranged,
And yet... I still long for a human touch.

Pretty good mate. So is this about someone being deprived of human contact or something?

It's about how someone addicted to narcotics starts to feel alienated from society and would rather just drown their sorrows in alchohol or inject themselves, which is true. But also that need that most people have to be accepted, and how that plays a role in their problem.