The truth is.

The truth is I am discouraged.
The truth is I don't know how to heal this deeply.
The truth is I wonder if anything will change.
The truth is I think things are always changing.
The truth is I hate myself sometimes.
The truth is that's not true.
The truth is I don't like affirmation about myself.
The truth is the reason I don't like affirmation is because I don't think its honest.
The truth is the reason I don't think its honest is because I've been told I'm not enough.
The truth is my mantra is that breathing is enough to be loved.
The truth is I make myself shrink.
The truth is I am outraged.
The truth is I'm stuck.
The truth is my leg hurts.
The truth is my eyes are twitching.
The truth is I have access to my tears.
The truth is I know how to feel.
The truth is I know how to fall.
The truth is I know what it means to hold the hand of a person of color.
The truth is I know what it is like for people to cry with me.
The truth is I know what it is like to cry with another's pain.
The truth is I have heard stories.
The truth is people keep telling me their stories.
The truth is I can't stand white people right now.
The truth is I can only stand some white people, a few at a time.
The truth is I got hardcore judged today for not speaking fluent spanish.
The truth is I am rejected on both sides.
The truth is describing myself as latina is a cop out.
The truth is describing myself as nicaraguense is a cop out.
The truth is describing myself as spanish is a cop out.
The truth is describing myself as nica, spanish, american is a cop out.
The truth is, I don't know what isn't a cop out.
The truth is I am a joyful mess.
The truth is I miss myself.
The truth is I wonder sometimes if I miss old ways of slavery in me.
The truth is I am pissed off at the world.
The truth is.