I've outgrown the need to tiptoe

I etched a fence - a cold water fjord  
to hoard myself  
to keep these shores from you
 
And I cracked some stencils
my pencil pressings
come on to strong;
so I leave myself  
where I please
 
The lines...
they think they know how they should lie
Oh,  
the confines ease their eyelids closed
at night
 
But they detest;
us, the stabber of gaps
in their tidy
typical packaging  
 
Red, raw eyewhites blink...
we cheat them of their dividends
of sleep