Voodoo Doll Lament

There is someone somewhere holding a little green voodoo doll
with a silver circlet pressing into its temples.
There's a band of wire, you see,
thin, strong, silver wire
being drawn across this doll's forehead
and pressing into her head,
the intent being to hurt her so much that she
screams and screams and screams
because her head is on fire.
And this voodoo doll is meant to be
me.

So dear person with the voodoo doll
please reshape my clay head
into some resemblance of my own
and remove the silver circlet
because you are
absolutelyfrigginkilling me here
and my head
my poor head
hurts.

'Hurts' is actually an understatement.
If I were being eaten alive by crocodiles,
I might smile cheerfully.
Murdered by crows,
chuckle merrily.
But this, this murderous silver circlet
pressing into my head;
this is torture.
(So much so that I've imagined this whole scenario
to explain why it's happening.)

So please, dear voodoo-dollmaster.
Take pity!
Fix the doll
and leave me be.