Finding Contentment

I just want to go find
the instruction manual for life
the rulebook for love
and a cheat sheet for
how to walk the line
between dreams and reality
hardwork and relaxation
the treasure map to navigate
a lifetime of hardship
where ever so often
an x will mark joyful snippets
that always seem to flash by
like purple petals pelting
on a downhill slope's road
when the pedals move 
of their own accord
and the butterflies quiver
in the pit of your stomach
and perhaps in the darkest nights
along this ever winding path
I'll grasp they key to unlock hearts
from cages of ribs
where I'll discover the courage
to rescue the person
always stuck in
someone else's definition
of her place in society
from that vast, empty shadow
called doubt
in hopes that 
she will find contentment
in the sun's warm rays
bathing her face in light
instead of more longing
trying to pull
more than she can chew
and bathing her hands
in bitter sanguine blood
and slipping down
down
d
o
w
n
into her own thoughts
but, chances are
I'll never find these things
because it is not so simple
as "just"
why?
maybe because the world
is not kind or fair
or maybe it is 
by giving me the chance
to write my own
instruction manual
rulebook 
cheat sheet
treasure map
key ring
and blaze my own winding path
to find my definition
of me
so when I find
the rays bathing my frozen flesh
scorching sensitive eyes
I will find
contentment
enough