My lines overrun, I have a problem

knowing when to stop. Restraint, they said,

‘lock your legs’, ‘this should be enjambed’.
Isn’t a word a pilgrim who find its place in phrase?
You don’t want to know, I’ve been around.
I was lost more often than I could count.
It starts with a glass of rum, a bat
of an eyelid, a blinking cursor, an empty page
a dirty heart.