This is the problem. . .when I'm doing a round in CA it leaves little time for a Firebox crit. . .I have read this over several times. . .on different days. . .and perceive an individual with a MPD. . .possibly.
The content could be an interesting look into the psyche of an individual. . .

I'm not necessarily impressed with the title. . .which could be much more stimulating given the slant of the work. . .however, it is straight-forward.

Is that you swinging the porchlight? 
Where does the echo of your footsteps 
stop? 
.........You can’t be 
in every room at once, or break quietly  
into my skull to peer through its sockets. 
So why this burn on my hand when you 
grabbed the kettle and held and held 
and held?  

A visual opening. . . a bit cliche perhaps for a "thriller" work. . .the bare bulb on a cord swinging in the night. . .and into an immediate psychological "trauma" of hearing the footsteps. . .apparently everywhere.  I'd keep stop on the  line previous. . .I do not feel any poetic reasoning for that word to have a line of its own, though I can see that you may be looking for the stop. . .you can't be connection. . .not necessarily working for me.  I'm not sure of the connection between the breaking into the skull (although that's a good visual. . .a real Eyes of Laura Mars line) and the kettle actually jive. . .except in the mind of the mad man I would presume. . .an indication of  not knowing one is being taken over.  I  might consider breaking after hand and possibly eliminating "and held and held".  In this case the repetition does not seem  to add a great deal of poetic effect, jmho  . .though I am one to use repetition myself.

...............You wake me in twilight 
to animate a murder mystery 
without saying a word. 

Although I do like the waking at twilight. . .it is a bit Twilight Zonish. . .though I'm getting the feeling that you are going for some of these allusions. 
 
I’ll make it easy for you. 
There’s rope in the garage, knives 
in the kitchen. Let’s whittle  
blowdarts from birch trees, sleep  
naked on the winter lake with only 
no-one to keep us warm. Whose head 
did we put in the noose? 

All the more psychotic I suppose to recognize that there is another individual vying for one's head. . .and wondering which one should be hung. . .      I find the hint of depression as well in the no one to keep us warm line. . .not quite following the blowdarts from birch trees line. . .and would suggest keeping whose head did we put in the noose on one line. . .as there does not seem to be an enjambment reason for keeping it with no one to keep us warm. . .

Anyway, a few cents. . .though, strictly from a personal standpoint, poems of this nature aren't really up my alley and, therefore, more difficult for me to comment on.

~Rene~