Night People

They call us vampires because we come alive when the world shuts up. But we are not feeding on darkness. We are breathing in peace. At night, the air enters different—slower, deeper, like God left the window open so the soul could finally speak. No daytime noise. No hands asking for pieces we barely have left. Just sky. Just stars. Just quiet turning the key. Some of us create there. Some of us pray there. And when the night leans close, we remember: we were built to find light where others stop looking inside the dark.

© Slam Poetry by Lucyalia 2024–2026. copyrighted. Use requires credit to @Lucyalia.

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