I used to see myself as a tree.

One of those that come in a bag,

(go in a bag,)

always being uprooted as soon as I get comfortable,

forgetting I was allowed to be comfortable.

Now I don't know how to be comfortable.

I'm not a tree;

I'd like to be.

I stay always knowing that I am leaving soon.

I want something to stay the same forever

A tree lives a long time

but in the end it's only paper

white as death

in my hands.