Another break up

The ink has dried on our tragic book,
The cover slammed shut like a heavy prison door.
And now I back on the shelf, collecting dust.
My tears which used to form an early morning dew,
Only to be burnt off by you,
now replaced by frost, and now I have only salt to thaw me, and it
stings my wounds.
You, my once beautiful record player, the pin has gone,
now all my once beautiful music, nothing more than static.