Here I sit inside my cell, thinking to myself, is this Hell? Cold and dark, with a terrible smell. I think it is, only time will tell.

A poem for the one true love of my life. I wish I could change the past, but I can only change my future.

I remember the day I saw you, I held your tiny form, the chilly air made you tremble, so we took you home.

The pressure of the pain inside, formed diamonds in my mind, tempting me to throw it in, to leave it all behind.

Belief in a future, they do persist, for everyone has the right to exist.

Locked down for the third time this week, sixth time this past fortnight, with Bird of Prey playing on Rage, the shitty fuzzy speakers on the shitty fuzzy TV barely able to conjure up something that resembles bass.

Butterflies, can be the colour of your eyes. They start life as tiny eggs, finally having wings and six legs.

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An ode to our last 750-gram powdered milk, taken from our treasured weekly Buy-Up Sheet.

Facing the darkness, the pain and cold travelling through the body, the soul taking me back to when I played alone when hell exists, the place my home I spend years, months, days wearing the mask trying to pretend there is no fear or pain.

The big idea behind this painting is to display a very strong, tough Australian sportswoman. Through her athleticism she has helped to inspire a huge number of young Australian girls to take up soccer as their favourite game.