Underneath the Transylvanian Moon

Underneath the Transylvanian moon
words to my secrets are spilled
on a road by day overwhelmed
coupled by you and I holding hands
at the back of a pickup truck
on a canapoy of faded stars.

Here a sliver of doubt trails along
as you kiss my phantom wounds
caress the frown on my face
to coax a smile that tugged
at the edge of my common sense.

But, the dimmed street lights extinguish
the fear of moving
just a step beyond the moment
lest it scratch,
tear,
and bite
the fragile truth

making a hoax of my vow,
of heartlessness;
nullifying our less than platonic love
we have declared
underneath the Transylvanian moon.

Uninspired

I'm so uninspired. And I have a theory for it:

The moon wanes and I
have a hundred poems to write.
The moon fades - nothing.

Yes, I know. It's supposed to be a haiku but... it sucks.

Well, gives a new meaning to the word lunatic, doesn't it?

This is oh so insane.