I Destroy Everything I Touch

I reach for the flower labled "family" and it wilts at my touch. It falls apart. I reach for the house labled "security" and it ignites at my touch. It burns to the ground. I reach for the water labled "happiness" and it turns black at my touch. It is forever contaminated. I reach for the playset labled "innocence" and it dissolves at my touch. It is never seen again. I reach for the ladybug labled "hope" and it stops moving at my touch. It dies in my hand. I really do mean well. I always do. But everything I touch crumbles. I can't help being a walking catastrophe.