Skin sticky with perspiration from a long month of June 
I sit in the ruins of half of this year that has left 
I am a ghost, fuzzy and melted down to a whirlpool 
Passing through walls of people that walk, waltz, run, or crash into me as I drift Like a bus with its rotating wheels akin to Bambi's flailing legs 
I know anger like they know grief 
Watching kids grow into these fleshy bits, lanky limbs 
They grieve the death of kids that they once loved 
It's tragic/ but see, change is beautiful 
As long as you grow as you change 
Two sides of a same coin to represent it that would let you grow/or not Cause when a thing doesn't grow, it starts to rot 
I know rotten people/I know lack of consideration 
I know entitlement and lack of reciprocation 
I know things you put up in a shelf for later/ just so that it doesn't seep into your skin, from some three to four millimeters under 
I know that your words meant for me are sharp and that you don't mean for them to be but I know compassion 
And I know what's it like to keep a secret because I know when the heart of a friend who lives thousands of miles away flutters 
And I know when a friend who lives close presses across her bony wrist the sharp blade of a cutter 
I know of women close to me staying in loveless contracts/ and that they didn't bump into a door when they talk about bumping into one as a response to the burning question/ they say it doesn't really matter 
And I know of infidelity that sinks its claws into a ripe chest filled with love only to hollow it out into the gutter 
I knowknowknowknow
All I do is know things 
Things/secrets that float into my ears like razored confetti and make them bleed And I hear the honeyed words that do nothing to soothe the grating feeling of the omniscience that for the longest time I have fathered 
You know how to handle things so well, very reliable 
Lips splitting in two/in false gratitude/as something inside me screams I left people to bleed because it's simply not my battle to win 
And then as it dies down, a small voice in the back of my mind mutters The less I know, oh, the less I know the better

"Omniscient" is one of the winning entries from this month's Khero Khata prompt.

H. Azad is a poet from Central Dhaka. They deal with themes of grief and gore, and they do hope to walk readers through it with them one day, rather than just holding the readers' chins and forcing them to stare it in the face. Find them on Instagram @qo2375_.