Not Suicide Poem by moon batchelder

her hands half hidden in her hair
curled tense against her pounding skull
could scarse restrain the throbbing there
her sensibilities grown dull

and that perhaps explains the deed -
not violence, nor quite despair -
but finally fulfilling need
for freedom from the whole affair

of most excruciating pain -
and really nothing more implied -
before it drove her mind insane -
to find some peace! - not suicide -

but liberation! great release!
- the courage to put her hand on these -