The poem reads like a short, uneasy confession. In the first stanza, the speaker senses another self inside, someone who once knew them but whose name they can't recall. The parenthetical line, "I had the wit to deny him," suggests the speaker chose to push that older self away, and seems a little proud of being clever about it, though the pride feels shaky.
The second stanza turns to a "we" who "made ourselves / by taking away art." That could mean giving up creative work in order to become something more practical or acceptable. The last line, "I married the company," fits this reading: the speaker has bound themselves to a job or institution, as if it were a personal vow. The word "confess" hints at pressure, as though the choice wasn't entirely free.
The mood is cold, guarded, and quietly regretful. Nothing is shouted. The short lines and flat tone make the loss feel clipped and unresolved, like something the speaker would rather not look at too closely.