This one saved MY life too.
'Fuck the poets of the past, my friends.
There are no beautiful suicides,
Just cold corpses with shit in their pants
And the end of the gifts.'
Saturday, January 28, 2006
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کاغز
ان کاغزوں کا کیا کروں تیرا نام جن پے لکھا تھا کورے رہے نا وہ، نا میں شائید ایسا ہی لکھا تھا
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Water drips in the distance, The insects wiggle afar; I lie here half-awake, yet self-aware. He calously calls out to me, 'You're a ...
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The sparkle in your eyes The twitch of your lips The touch of your hand That bend of the hips The softness of your hijaab The crudeness of y...
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You cannot say you dont love me, No, you just can't. You cannot raise your hand and strike me, Even if you must, you just cant. You cann...
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