The 30th Floor
The shadow was a heavy burden—
it roamed the empty spaces
between thought and sound,
silence and echoes.
I walked the steps of a quiet hall,
each floor dimmer than the last,
following a path stranger than truth,
beyond the reach of lies,
toward a softer light.
And here I am—
on the thirtieth floor,
with fear far away,
remembering those
I left behind
on my silent march to ascension.
Here, the lights flicker
to a rhythm of their own.
Once every two minutes,
I hear the buzzing of my thoughts—
nothing comes to mind
but what is present
in autumn’s strange heat.
I feel the pounding
in my chest—serene, steady—
the current rising through me,
the music each time I speak,
heart and mind aligned.
And as I sit here,
sipping peppermint tea,
I realize—
winter is here again.
Reflection on The 30th Floor
I wrote this poem after living almost a full year of being thirty. It came to me as I began to understand what this new chapter really meant, not the number itself, but the quiet strength that comes with it.
Each floor in the poem holds a version of me I had to meet, learn from, and release. By the time I reached the “30th floor,” I felt lighter, more present, and finally at peace with where I am.
It’s about the calm that follows transformation, sitting with a cup of tea, watching the seasons change, and realizing you’ve grown into someone you once hoped to become. I am completely captivated by this piece as it shows my evolution as a writer. Gone are the days when I doubted if my work was good and hid it from the world. It is now mine to share and yours to see
Learn more about my writing process below! Thank you for reading
