It’s Not the Season for Voodoo
I’m in your voodoo.
Your yellow eyes
Hiss at the moon
Pretending, pretending
To love me.
Selling your soul away singing:
I’m the only one you look at
Like that
I’m in your voodoo.
It’s hot and it’s damp—
It’s wintertime,
Long and hard.
I spread myself around
Just like your lies, lies, lies:
Put your hands on me
Like that
I’m in your voodoo.
A doll made of doll parts
You cut my hair
And jammed your needle.
I belong to you
Out of my own free will:
You can’t get rid of me
Like that
You burn Bibles
Just for the high
And twist your dagger into my spine.
I’m in your voodoo,
So I can’t rise up
Without you bringing me down:
How come you keep showing up
Like that
I’m in your voodoo.
Your sadistic Satan self
Glistening under holy water—
I ran out of crosses,
Lost my religion, and you
You’re far beyond salvation:
Prayer doesn’t save a person
Like that
How do I get out of Bethlehem?
I’m no more diamond pure.
I’m in your voodoo
And you’re no good…
Acid trip, there’s no coming down!
God turns a cheek:
I can’t seem to get out
Like that
You have as many demons
As you do black magic toys;
You treat me like you like your drugs:
Hard.
I’m in your voodoo.
Hail Father Lucifer:
Why do you do me
Like that

Photography © Steve Warren
Kyle Labe is a sophomore writing, literature, and publishing major at Emerson College. He has had work published in anthologies and contests nationwide.
Steve Warren is a veteran, recovering addict, a peer specialist and is Reiki II certified who was old at 40 and is getting younger every day at 54. He is a self taught Naturalpathic Self Healer and is the co-host of “What Do You Think?” He changed his diet started dancing, writing and performing poetry and hasn’t stopped healing since.
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