Proud

Feeling the flames on the side of my face;

Smiling, laughing in this bustling space.

I have found where I belong-

All hopes are high. Nothing can go wrong.

My arm burns from whipping. The eggs froth and foam,

Shaping into the familiar sight I now call home.

I move with ease about the room,

A bright light amidst the unsettling gloom.

They will never want it as bad as me,

I remind myself with gaiety.

There was a time I almost quit.

I felt completely broken; so sick of it.

Couldn’t find the path to take,

Everything I did felt like a giant mistake.

As I complete the meringue with confidence,

I feel my life is finally starting to make sense.

Feeling like I’m flying high,

I want to sing out to the sky:

“I am a baker! And I’m as gleeful as an elf, for

I have never been more proud of myself.”