He builds you a cage making the walls out of honey and dew to lure you inside Putting in windows only to then glue them shut He shouts “you can leave whenever you **** well please.” Relishes in punishing you with black magic- that leaves you dizzy for days whenever you try Wilts the flowers you grow for company Convincing you it’s your fault they always die to begin with “If you would just be good maybe I wouldn’t have to do this.” laces you up with ribbons and spider silk Reworks you until you are docile just in his image He’s a dead ***** necromancer and you're the best of both his worlds always on the cusp of being half alive He takes to gathering bouquets of your dead flowers placing them on the windowsill His voice renaming and whispering spells to them every time he visits you until they are gleaming once again eventually you see this act for the warning it is Sitting pretty and doe eyed You now only shimmer and shine if it means he will let you stay