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.