My little secret

My Little Secret is a profound collection of 170 poems by Marcella Boccia, a poet whose voice resonates with the complexities of the human experience. Blending the lyrical elegance of Yeats with the introspective depth of Leopardi, Marcella crafts a tapestry of words that explore the mystery of life and the hidden truths that dwell within each of us.In this evocative anthology, the poet delves into themes of love, loss, identity, and the unspoken secrets that shape our essence. Each poem serves as a window into her soul, revealing the intimate struggles of a borderline existence—where light meets shadow and vulnerability intertwines with strength. Through haunting imagery and poignant reflections, Marcella invites readers to embark on a journey of self-discovery, encouraging them to confront their own hidden truths. My Little Secret is not just a collection of poems; it is an exploration of the delicate balance between what is revealed and what remains concealed. With ever

My little secret is a arts podcast hosted by Marcella Boccia, with 13 episodes on record and a Required Pod Score of 80. PitchCentric scores this show on Booking Probability, Listen Score, and live audience signals refreshed every 24 hours.

Marcella Boccia hosts My little secret, a arts show with 13 episodes published.

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  Episode #13

  The language of crows (Marcella Boccia)

  Feb 20, 20251 minS1

  The language of crows (Marcella Boccia)<br /><br />They gather where the twilight fades,<br />black scribes upon the weary sky,<br />their voices stitched in broken shades,<br />a riddle sung, a last goodbye.<br />I hear them whisper, sharp and low,<br />in tones no lips have ever learned,<br />a tongue of sorrow, born of woe,<br />where every sound is lost, then burned.<br />They call to me, they chant my name,<br />as if they know the things I hide,<br />the secrets buried, burned in shame,<br />the silent grief I keep inside.<br />...

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  Episode #12

  Ghosts in my veins  (Marcella Boccia)

  Feb 20, 20251 minS1

  Ghosts in my veins  (Marcella Boccia)<br /><br />They move like whispers through my blood,<br />soft specters spun from loss and lore,<br />a fleeting chill, a crimson flood,<br />the echoes of what came before.<br />They hum in pulses, dark and deep,<br />old voices buried in my skin,<br />they stir in dreams, they wake in sleep,<br />they call me back, they pull me in.<br />No priest can bless, no fire can burn,<br />no love can hush their sad refrains—<br />for I was born, and I will turn<br />to dust with gho...

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  Episode #11

  The door I never opened  (Marcella Boccia)

  Feb 20, 20251 minS1

  The door I never opened  (Marcella Boccia)<br /><br />I traced its edges in the night,<br />where dust and silence intertwined,<br />a threshold bathed in silver light,<br />a passage locked inside my mind.<br />My fingers lingered on the grain,<br />a trembling thought, a breath held tight,<br />behind it—shadows called my name,<br />but I stepped back, escaped their sight.<br />Some doors, once touched, will not forget,<br />some truths, once known, will twist and bend—<br />so I walked on, though still I fret<br />for all I lost, for what won’t end.

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  Episode #10

  In the hollow of my heart (Marcella Boccia)

  Feb 20, 20251 minS1

  In the hollow of my heart (Marcella Boccia)<br /><br />There is a place no light can reach,<br />no lover’s hand, no whispered prayer,<br />a silent wound too deep for speech,<br />a hollow carved by time and air.<br />The winds may howl, the tides may turn,<br />yet nothing fills the space I keep,<br />where embers ache but never burn,<br />where echoes sing but never weep.<br />No key, no name, no voice, no art<br />could ever mend or tear apart<br />the void that breathes, the ghost that dwells<br />within th...

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  Episode #9

  The echo of an unspoken word (Marcella Boccia)

  Feb 20, 20251 minS1

  The echo of an unspoken word (Marcella Boccia)<br /><br />It lingers where the silence sways,<br />between the dusk, beneath the tide,<br />a ghost that time cannot erase,<br />a shadow I have locked inside.<br />No lips have shaped it into breath,<br />no hand has traced it into ink,<br />yet in the hollow hush of death,<br />it haunts the space between the brink.<br />No ear will catch, no voice will claim,<br />no wind will carry what it heard—<br />for only I will know its name,<br />the echo of an unspoken wo...

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