Where the Light Is: Dust (An Open Letter) by Vindictive Bxtch

do you think what you’re doing to me is fair

to kiss me with the lips that you utter “I love you” to her?

to blatantly disrespect me

commanding me to love you when you know I always say I do.


you have made me your fool.


I will travel through the hills of destruction

let these boulders tumble upon my bones

till they are dust

but, only if it meant being with you.


and even on these steep mountains

where the wind will carry my dust-form

through the valleys of deceit


rivers of lies

i will absorb you.


once the atoms of matter have attached me to you

there we are: liquid and dust

the sun will rise

shining mightiest in the sky.


and she will evaporate your existence from me.


there i am,


laying on the banks of heartbreak

and without your liquidation I too will erode along with them.


there you are.

there she is:




the both of you will set.


making way for the black and purple sky who brings along a friend,

guiding light of the night

the moon – cratered and flawed.


he stays the night till evening becomes morn’

he promises to come back

i wait.




and yellow

she rises once again

devilish and bright she seeks for you amongst the bed of heartbreak where you had left me


but, you’re nowhere to be found.



the sun kept setting

the moon came

day after day.


you were nowhere to be found.



the sun rose

the moon disappeared

day after day


you were nowhere to be found.



the moon asked me to be his – i said yes


you were nowhere to be found.



the sun rose and then something strange happened,

clouds covered the sky.


it became dark, as dark as the night



and yellow

she tried to shine bright

to burn through the condensation but she was not strong enough.


the rumbling got louder

a white light flashed through the sky


it was not as harsh as the rising star

nor as humble as the evening star

it was fierce,

it was passionate.


the rumbling got louder

the clouds became thicker

the flashes were quicker

and then you fell.


first in drops

then in sheets

then you poured, you poured yourself back to me.


as water you returned into the river of lies but I was no longer dust.


i had been loved so fiercely it moulded my integrity

i had been loved so deeply it strengthened my self worth

i had been loved back into my first form



and there you were flowing in your river of lies through the valleys of deceit

and my bones became the flesh that tumbled boulders into your banks

and with each splash she took bits and pieces of you




and yellow

she became satisfied for i gave you to her without a fight.


do you think what you did to me was fair?

you kissed me


told her you love her


I walked away from that disrespect


i’ll always love you but darling

by the sweat of my face i shall drip you till you return to the ground

for out of it you were taken

but I, I am not dust


and to dust I refuse to return.


Connect with this divine soul:

Twitter: @vindictivebxtch

Blog: thevindictivebxtch.blogspot.com

Tumblr: thevindictivebxtch.tumblr.com

Honesty isn’t an Expired Policy

I know, I know. It’s been awhile since I’ve blogged. I am sorry and growing. Mercury retrograde kicked my ass (right into shape, spiritually speaking). Relationships ended. Friendships grew stronger. Shit got real…really real. I became my own safety net for the first time in my twenty years of existence and I’m not shaking in my boots. I feel a peculiar sense of calm and grounding. I feel very sure of myself and my abilities. I can make it through this. If you’re nosey like me, you’re wondering what the hell THIS is LOL. Well I’ll tell you because I don’t have anything to hide.

Take a seat. Relax. Breathe. I love you and everything’s gonna be just fine. The universe always provides…but here goes everything:

I have to take the semester off at school because I have a ridiculous balance, set to the tune of $11K and that’s just from the arts school I’m currently attending. I still owe the creme de la creme, “it’s lonely at the top” HBCU that I attended $19K. Courtney at the collection agency checks in with me once a week. She’s a really sweet girl. I got into a physical altercation with my stepdad on his birthday, he was drunk and I called him out on his shit. As a result of my decision, he choked me until her felt better. My mom, stepdad and I all exchanged words with one another. Things ended with my mom giving me a month to move out. Like return the house keys, I’m taking you off health and life insurance, you’re written out of the will move out of the house.

I’m still working out my living situation, y’all. It makes progress everyday. Here’s the silver lining, Shanti’s employed! I’m excited about this new job because it actually suits my personality. It’s so chill but I feel important and most of all empowered and responsible in the workplace. I know I’ll feel good spending all my time there.

Anyways, I’m gonna be sappy and end this post with my favorite poems by my favorite poets. Oh yeah, don’t be bitter when you can spend that time getting better.


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Say My Name…Say My Name…

What’s in a name?

Your name is so important, it holds immense value. It is the first thing someone learns about you and the second thing they make assumptions about (the first being your appearance, how you present and represent yourself). Your identity is attached to letters that symbolize who you are, what you represent and what you do.

A good business name is like a good artist. Unique, original, and inspires you to take action or create change. In terms of a business (hint, hint):

  1. take action: a means to support, promote or buy these products or services where you (as the consumer) is the most involved
  2. create change: a form of taking action. the consumer interjects monotonous conversation to talk (read: rant and rave) about your awesome product/service.  Can you say free publicity?

Word of mouth attracts so many demographics, keep your press positive. Be aware of the language you utilize in advertisements and notifications to your consumers. Don’t offend anybody.

Your business may not appeal to the world but it will to somebody just as passionate about your business as you are. Never let your passion and work ethic waver. Remember why you started and keep working towards growth, gain will follow.

More will come, I’m loving and working into projects that have my whole heart in them. As they and I grow together, so will my knowledge to share.

Light | My First Experience with BGIO

BlackGirlInOm promotes holistic wellness and inner beauty for women of color. Through the forthcoming BGIO online publication and pop-up yoga and wellness experiences, they encourage self-care and self-love for communities of color. As a community, these women affirm through their work the consistent, preventative actions that cultivate a clarity of mind, a strength of body, a prosperity of spirit, and an inspiration in their environments. They love: movement, food, growth, music, art and any and all things life-affirming to us and our communities. They learn and share wellness practices with one another, and through this work cultivate richer understandings of what it means to be healthy and beautiful from the inside out, and from the outside in.

*Today is the first day of the month and traditionally the best time to enact change in one’s life. I reached out to the founder of BGIO, Lauren and signed up for Sunday (today’s) class. I wasn’t apprehensive or fearful of doing yoga although it was my first time practicing. Normally, I would be but I wasn’t this time around. A sign of old habits shedding. I had no expectations going into the session. We began with a reading of Sisters of the Yam by Bell Hooks as Lauren led an eye-opening, perspective-widening conversation about viewing our bodies as temples.

I had shared the following with the group of strong, brown women (my mother sitting on her pink yoga mat across from me):

I have opened my legs more times than I’ve opened my heart. If my body is a temple, the ceiling is crying. The walls are always nervous and ready to give in, collapse at any unfavorable opposition. The windows are cloudy. The door is always open, always inviting energies in because it’s afraid of being alone. My temple doesn’t respect itself and doesn’t command respect from anyone entering it.

As we began to engage in the different asanas, I found myself challenging myself to unravel and unfold more layers of depth within. I was at a comforting peace with my progress, as Lauren assisted me with minor adjustments from time to time. It’s okay for help to come along and to accept it.

I achieved a greatness that no one can validate. I encouraged myself with smiles, soft touch and warm thoughts as the session progressed. So did my self-worth and self-love. I am a potent gold. To me for me.

My darkness was just another form of light waiting for me to realize its purpose and potential. To go to that space without fear or hesitation. I didn’t long for someone to hold my hand on this journey as many have done throughout my life. For the first time, I didn’t clip my wings; I soared and was grounded in the same breath.

My favorite asanas were the hip openers, Lauren mentioned that they released emotional energy through the hips. Pigeon pose is my absolute favorite because I felt my mind and spirit release. Release doubt, fear, jealousy, passive fermenting anger. And in that release, I wasn’t worried about “losing” negativity that became a comfort to me. This negativity brewed throughout my days and kept me warm through the nights. What came to me was greater than that. Acceptance. Of where I am, who I am, how I am and all of the potential festering in the way I live. Walk, talk, breathe, do light.

Today, I practiced patience, love and respect to myself. I feel most alive and well. I can’t wait to explore and experience more ways of being in this soft, bold nature.

Meet and heal with the ladies of Black Girl In Om and get free within this encouraging community. Join them (well, us now) in the Chicago Cultural Center at 11am. The next session is February 15, 2015. To register for a session, email blackgirlinom@gmail.com.

Shameless plug coming in 5…4…3…2…1:

BGIO is seeking sharp writers for their online publication, which launches Spring 2015. Writers must be based in ATL, Chi, DC, SF, or MPLS. To inquire, please email blackgirlinom@gmail.com or via blackgirlinom.com.

BGIO is also looking for dynamic contributing photographers in Chicago, Atlanta, Minneapolis, NYC, DC, and SF. They are collaborating with talented artists who are passionate about holistic wellness for people of color. Visit blackgirlinom.com and send them a message to get more information on how to become a contributing photographer.

Manifest with BlackGirlInOm: Site | Instagram | Twitter

(*This post was written on February 1, 2015 on my iPod. I wanted to collect my flowers of thoughts as they bloomed.)

XXX, Shanti

I’m backkkkkkkkk! No more hiatuses from me, in regards to Sundays with Shanti. At least, not without notice. You probably want to get to know me more intimately and this series will help you do just that. Besides, I needed a space just to overshare and get reapersonal. So, I’ll start with a confession…only on one condition though: I’ll share mine if you share yours. Leave all your dirty details below.

This poem is what sex education and that lackluster ‘birds and the bees’ talk failed to mention. A result of what experience taught me at least three times a day and triple that on the weekends, especially when the house is empty. Sshhhhh….don’t tell anybody. This experience was more intense than cumming just as my parents walk through the door. If sex is the deluxe Belgian chocolate bar that costs more than Italian Vogue, then masturbation is the King-sized Hershey bar nestled quietly underneath my mattress.


don’t kill your vibrator on monday morning

because you still have to get

through the rest of the week.

don’t. do it.

you’re a good girl.

that’s why you still can’t feel your legs.

splattered your headboard in fragrances.

don’t swallow your moans.

that honey is too damn good to waste.

let it drip, buckwild and sweet.

pouring out deeply.

don’t masturbate for two hours straight.

thighs jump like good bass after—

i thought all wands were indestructible.

they’re just magic.

don’t tear down the walls of your bedroom.

she’s busy, your body should call back later.

don’t stop thinking. especially about her. don’t. stop.

her collarbones. her thighs. her skin silken like wet dreams of ripe peaches.

that plush flower blossoming between strong, mahogany.

you’re supposed to hate monday mornings.


— xxx blues