Neurodivergent and proud (poems by Marcella Boccia)

War in the pupils (Marcella Boccia) There is war in the pupils of those who have seen too much, A battlefield hidden behind the quiet of their gaze, Where echoes of gunfire do not fade, Where the dead still whisper their unfinished names. I have watched the children of ruin walk home at dusk, Their hands small, their shadows long, Carrying silence like an inheritance, Carrying absence where laught...

The sky over Jhelum (Marcella Boccia) The sky over Jhelum is not a sky—it is a wound split open by time,a whisper stretched thin over the river’s breath,where the dusk bleeds into the watersand the waters carry the weight of sorrowwithout ever breaking. I have stood on its banks,where the air tastes of longingand the mountains press their silence into my skin. The boats drift like forgotten prayer...

Always, beyond time (Marcella Boccia)  Always,Even when the seasons fold into the cold of silence,When the stars refuse to burn,And the earth sighs beneath the weight of centuries—You are there,A shadow I cannot touch,A flame I cannot extinguish. Beyond time,Where the rivers of past and future meet,Where the echoes of forgotten lives weave through the air,Your presence is a ghost I cannot outrun,A...

The silence that binds us (Marcella Boccia) There is a silence between us,Thick as the night before a storm,A space where words cannot reach,Yet where everything is said,And nothing can be undone. It holds us—Like the stillness before the first drop of rain,A breath drawn too deep,Too fragile to exhale,As though even the air knowsThe weight of what remains unsaid. In this silence,You are both a gh...

Love in suspension (Marcella Boccia) Love hangs in the air here,A fragile thread spun between us and the abyss,It sways, caught in the breath of unseen winds,As if afraid to fall,Yet too heavy to fly. I feel it,Tugging at the spaces where my heart once beat freely,Now a hollow echo in the chest,A memory that lingers like smoke,Refusing to be inhaled or exhaled. In this suspended moment,You are bot...

Your voice in the wind’s echo (Marcella Boccia) Your voice drifts through the valley,A whisper caught in the throat of the mountain,As though the winds themselves were tryingTo hold it—To keep it from fading into the night. It is a voice like the dark of forgotten stars,Soft as the touch of rain on a broken leaf,Heavy with the weight of something unsaid,A song lost to the silence of time. I hear i...

Chinar leaves and poetry (Marcella Boccia) The chinar leaves fall,Crimson tears on the earth,Each one a poem written in the silence of the sky,Each one a breath caught in the throat of time. They flutter like whispers,Carrying the stories of a thousand lost years,And I gather them,Not for their beauty,But for the ache they carry in their veins. The wind sings its song through the branches,A hymn o...

Letter to a distant man (Marcella Boccia) I write to you,Though you are not here,Not in the space where my breath lingers,Not in the silence that calls your name. Your face is a distant sky—A cloud I chase in the dusk,A horizon I touch only in dreams,As the winds of the past blow me to you,And pull me back to the edge of nowhere. Your voice,Once a song that echoed in my bones,Now fades into the ro...

Your name is a sweet wound (Marcella Boccia) Your name,A soft blade that cuts the air,A whisper of blood on my tongue,It lingers,Not with bitterness,But with the sweetness of a woundI will never allow to heal. It echoes in my veins,Where silence once bloomed,And now it blooms with pain,Like roses that thrive in the night,Their petals sharp as the longingI dare not speak. Your name is a song I sing...

Words I do not say (Marcella Boccia) There are words that burn,And I keep them close,Pressed between ribs and regret—They are the secrets I feed to the night. They are the whispers that curlAround the shadows of my soul,Where no light dares to travel,Where silence becomes a language of its own. I have tasted them, bitter as iron,Written them on the walls of my mind,Yet still they stay unspoken,Lik...

Writing to you from the edge (Marcella Boccia) From the edge of a world torn in silence,Where the mountains bleed and the river cries,I write to you, the flame of my thoughts,On pages soaked with moonlight's sigh. Beneath the weight of an ancient sky,I trace your name on the winds that pass,And the echoes of our souls intertwine,Dancing with shadows, flickering like glass. You, who speak in a lang...

Srinagar between the lines (Marcella Boccia) The lake whispers in tongues of mist,its breath a veil over forgotten names. Shikaras drift like silent prayers,soft ripples spelling verses only the moon can read. The air tastes of lost letters,unwritten vows, half-formed songs—love that burned in the hush of dawn,grief that lingers between jasmine and ash. Mountains loom, guardians of sorrow,their sp...

Neurodivergent and proud (Marcella Boccia) I do not walk the world in straight lines,nor think in measured whispers. My mind is a constellationwhere stars refuse to stand still,a river that does not askfor permission to flood. They call me disorder,but I am symphony—a chaos of violins in a burning sky,a song too vast for the limits of silence. They call me fractured,but I am mosaic—shattered light...

THE WEIGHT OF BEING ME I wake to a sky that does not belong to me,to air too thin, too heavy,pressing against the bones of my chestlike an unspoken grief. The mirror does not recognize my face—or perhaps it does,and simply chooses to turn away. I carry myself like a burden,a body filled with too many ghosts,a mind stitched togetherwith the frayed threads of yesterday. Each step I takeis weighted w...

Liquid dissociation I am the river that cannot hold its form,the water that slips through fingers,too soft to grasp,too swift to see. My thoughts, like currents,flow and break,dissolve into the night,leaving nothing but the taste of salton a tongue too tired to speak. I am liquid—a shape that shattersbefore it takes shape,a reflection that fadesthe moment it is seen. I am the fracture between the...

A heart in intermittence (Marcella Boccia) 🎧 English My heart beats like a clockthat does not know time—its rhythm erratic,its pulse a rebellionagainst the steady march of hours. In the silence of the night,it quickens,like a lover who cannot wait,then falters,a hesitationtoo heavy to bear,too light to ignore. I am both the flame and the ash,the fire that devoursand the embers that linger,smolder...

VOICES BETWEEN THE SYNAPSES 🎧 (Marcella Boccia) I hear them—the voices that live between the synapses,whispering secretsin a language that trembles like broken glass,too sharp to touch,too soft to hold. They dance on the edges of thought,flickering like firefliescaught between moments,too fleeting to grasp,too persistent to ignore. They are the sound of silence,the music of a mind undone,the rhyt...

I am not a diagnosis 🎧 (Marcella Boccia) I am not a label pinned to my skin,not a diagnosis that can be circled in ink,not a box to be checkedon a form that knows nothing of the depth of my soul. I am not a name that can be spokenand understood,not a word that fits neatly in the mouthand slips from the tongue with ease. I am the silence after the scream,the darkness after the light,the space betw...

Thoughts in overdose 🎧 (Marcella Boccia) I drink from the cup of thoughtuntil the edges bleed into the void,swallowed by the flood of voicesthat speak louder than silence,louder than love,louder than the beating of my heartagainst the cage of my chest. Too many thoughts,too many roads winding in circles,each one a path to nowhere,each one a siren’s callthat pulls me deeper into the storm. I am lo...

TOO MUCH AND NEVER ENOUGH 🎧 (Marcella Boxcia) I am the river that never rests,too full of stars to be calm,too deep to be touched by light,a torrent that knows no shore,a longing that swallows the nightand spits out the dawn. I carry too much within me—the weight of a thousand silences,the echoes of words never spoken,the dreams of a thousand livesI never had the chance to live. I am too much,and...

A MIND IN CHECKERED PATTERNS 🎧 (Marcella Boccia) I am a tapestry of restless threads,woven in patterns no one understands,each thought a square,each feeling a line,each moment a fracturein the delicate design of my mind. Do you hear the whispers? The secrets that slip through the gaps,as I trace the edges of madness,my fingers tremblingat the sharpness of truth. A mind in checkered patterns—a puz...

I trace the sky with trembling fingers, wondering if your gaze still lingers in the soft glow of forgotten stars. Heaven has your eyes now— those endless pools, those windows to a soul I never fully knew. In the silence between dusk and dawn, I hear your laughter, carried on the wind, and the taste of your name still burns my lips like bitter wine. You are not gone, you are the echo in the night,...

Borderline blues (Marcella Boccia) I walk the edge of silence,where words are knives, and silence is a wound. Between two breaths, I am both fire and snow,a soul split open like the sky at dusk—half light, half shadow,always in-between,never quite whole. Do you see me? The one who wears madness like a cloak,whose eyes are mirrors of shattered dreams,who dances in the ruins of hope,each step a pray...