when all else fails, try following directions

they handed me the manual,  

pages stained with sweaty fingertips.  

“it’s simple,” they said, all smirks.  

but simple is a trap, a ruse.  

step one said “breathe” but I  

was gasping—lungs a dirty sponge.  

step two read “stand tall” yet  

I crouched, spine like broken rails.  

somewhere around step five or six,  

a fly drowned in my coffee cup.  

I paused, watched its tiny struggle,  

watched it fail, one wing twitching.  

the thing they don’t tell you in  

directions is how much it costs.  

not in money, no, but old truths  

sacrificed, charred under that logic.  

still, I kept flipping pages. stubborn  

like everyone else or just dumb.