#princess chan

[jadexee]

Here was my apology gift to CQ for being a meanie to her about her absolutely awful oc Princess-Chan. Princess-Chan belongs to: @loverofpiggies

[rimacos]

UR SO PRETTYYYYY

asdfghjk thanks a bunch!!! you’re just too precious for saying that. thank you again for the compliment and i hope you had a lovely day, lovely person! 

[emotionalpackrat]

please note trigger warnings in tags

check out this beautiful performance from Princess at one of the monthly slam/open mic/features put on my massart poetry alliance... check out the post below for more on how to get involved with us (it should also be in the massart tag on tumblr) 

http://treesandempathy.tumblr.com/post/87624629688/hello-future-massart-students

[jennyholzertrampstamp]

My parents met in the night while escaping the genocide They relied on the reflection of the pale moon on their skin for guidance Dad said that mom was glowing Like an angel In my culture An apsara is a goddess of earth and water They are heavenly dancers I learn about them to know what it means to be Cambodian I read somewhere that Apsaras are often the wives of musicians I don't know if this is true But it makes sense to me Dad was a charmer back in the day Before the PTSD kicked in He was a ghost writer for the Cambodian music label, the golden butterfly If you listen to the albums, you know exactly which songs are about mom. She learned how to dance in site two, a refugee camp in Thailand. She never stopped practicing. It's been twenty years now that dads been gone But you can still hear his voice ringing in the hallways A scratched vinyl on a broken record player All your favorite cassette tapes stretched apart and thrown into the wood stove I catch mom dancing in the kitchen She says the acoustics here are the best Dad is a distance choke gargling in the sink I watch her dance for him Her wings draped in gold and heavy with curse We are both in constant battle with our bodies Mom tells me to stop dancing In fear that I will become my mothers daughter A lover of men who leave after teaching us how to move for them She says Don't marry a man with music stitched into his skin When they sing You will just be another sad ass snake returning home to it's charmer

Princess Chan, Day 235

[machomoon-blog]

the ghosts of Little Cambodia

The new waitress at my favorite restaurant doesn’t speak English.

The boy I am sharing lunch with doesn’t know how to pronounce any of our culture’s delicacies. He speaks to her with crisp demand. He says, “I… I don’t know what it’s called… but…”

She frowns.

I translate for him. I watch him squirm.

I lose my appetite.

The chef in the back works open to close seven days a week. He only speaks in YES SIRS to the big American customers and kisses their polluted egos and one dollar tips.

When the busboy cleans up, he tells me, “It’s just like home.”

He smiles.

There is warfare happening in my motherland as I speak. My country is filled with the ghosts of the genocide picking up the war they died fighting for. I call my mother. She tells me she is too tired to speak. I ask her about work. She says, “It’s just like home.” How her tongue cannot wrap itself around the American dream. It is not strong enough to hold its own. I join her for dinner. The kitchen sink is filled with blood. It gurgles her name.

[machomoon-blog]

In 1970 Dad is a 12 year old village boy kicking rocks down a dirt road. He hears a wedding band playing his favorite song.

1975 The wedding band is playing a war cry now. The entire country is in the audience. They lie about rock and roll. They say it’s dead.

1979  My parents fall asleep in a refugee camp and wake up in America with green cards.

1993 All I know is that dad stopped writing songs about mom. The spirits wouldn’t stop singing in the background.

2014 I am slow dancing with Death. He asks me for my name. I say, My given name is Princess. I am the heiress to this survival game. I ask him what he wants our wedding song to be.

He leaves me at the altar.

[jennyholzertrampstamp]

"When I lose all my teeth, bury me underneath the floorboards. Do not patch up the ceiling when the rain finds its way inside our home. You've given enough closure to grow a garden out of me."

Princess Chan

[christeeezzy]

I've realized in these past few months. My world is filled with beautiful people. I gained perspective. Seeing her recite her collection of poems... often speaking about self worth, to the darkest times of her life. She speaks as almost as things should be seen beautiful. Beauty lies in these things. I feel a focus that I've never had before, and I catch myself smiling. Her world is constantly changing, and she is the bigger part of that change. Nineteen.